


Hell's Belle

by Flying_Condors



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Capture, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hallucinations, Interfactional Interface, Mind Manipulation, Psychological Trauma, Rough Oral Sex, Torture, bad memories, oh so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flying_Condors/pseuds/Flying_Condors
Summary: How far can abandonment push this strong-willed femme once in the devil's den?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nitrobot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/gifts).



> Essentially one of the more twisted stories I could come up with. A long, long overdue Christmas gift I had long planned for NitroStation.
> 
> This is an alternate (much more adult) scenario to the G1 cartoon episode “The Search for Alpha Trion”, in which Megatron finds much more interest with the Female Autobot leader than shown and where he doesn’t use her as bait to lure in her husbando to a trap.
> 
> And, for the record, the Elita One from Carcer is a fraud, likely Twirl in cosplay. The real her was only ever featured in Megatron Origins #3 and you will never be able to convince me otherwise.

Elita One was a name well known among Megatron’s ranks.

A capable leader, one to have taken down many of his best warriors down with her team of femme specialists, she had a noteworthy list of charges that were more than enough to warrant a painful death sentence.

However, her connection to Optimus Prime was what enticed him most.

Her profile had detailed more on their past: when their designations had been Orion Pax and Ariel. Back then, they had been extremely close friends, both serving in the same data cataloging department in Iacon. Rather intriguing to see how far the two had elevated their relationship after Alpha Trion’s intervention.

Knowing of their covert trysts thanks to Soundwave’s surveillance, Megatron easily saw a weakness in their outwardly professional relationship. Seeing the lingering gazes and sensual touches shared in private moments to themselves made him determined to exploit their bond to obtain information on the Prime’s operations.

After all, who else would know more about him than his own sparkmate?

//

Elita's optics blinked off and on, casting short bursts of light into the large expanse around her. She was unable to bring herself fully into consciousness, something deep in her circuits slowing her reactions.

Though, even with a groggy processor, snippets of a battle still slipped through and she saw her second-in-command take over as they fended off a large Decepticon attack on their base. Shutting off her optics once more, she groaned, pain shooting down the wires in her bound arms.

“Chromia!” she cried out into the darkness, a part of her spark desperately holding out on the possibility that at least she was not captured. If she remained alive and with the others, there could still be a chance that she would recuperate the Femme Death Battalion and keep command of them.

When only her pitiful echo replied back, she leaned against the hanging stasis cuffs, thoughts racing as to how many of them had been imprisoned alongside her or, worse, separated inside the unknown labyrinth that was the Cybertronian-based Decepticon stronghold. She knew that, despite their previous Energon runs, they wouldn’t have the sufficient knowledge on the exact working of what was past the loading areas to navigate an escape.

Without an idea of where to go or if she even had a team left at all, she struggled to maintain reign over her emotions. Forcing herself to consider all existing emergency routines, she reviewed them obsessively, over and over until finally realizing that none of them had ever prepared her for the current situation.

Cursing herself for not having the foresight to have come up with an appropriate contingency plan, she helplessly squirmed against her cuffs, barely aware of the doors opening until the lights were flicked on.

Shuttering her optics as the florescent lights overhead assaulted them, she tilted her head down while allowing them to adjust to the light intensity. Slowly getting accustomed to the brightness, they onlined fully only to see a pair of gunmetal black pedes in front of her.

A servo reached out to roughly grab her by the underside of her chin, forcing her to look up at its owner.

“A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Commander Elita One.”

Mouth gaped open, she drew in a gasp. Never, in all the time that had transpired since she was last Ariel, did she ever expect to see him again. 

“Megatron,” she spat out, reviled by how his name spilled forth. “It has been such a long time.” Frowning, she added, “I certainly wasn’t pinning on a reunion.”

Smiling, he squeezed her faceplates in between two large digits. “As was I, but, yet, here we are again. Almost as if Primus himself knew this was fated.” Pausing to see her reviled grimace, he said, “I hope Orion had been treating you well.”

Pulling back from his hold, she sneered, “Oh, he definitely did better than what you plan to do to me for whatever twisted reason you captured me and my team.”

“Your team?” He scoffed, pressing uncomfortably close to her, forcing her hanging frame to cling against him. “They were of no importance to me. I would have terminated them had they not made a timely retreat.” Grinning, he whispered, “A bit disappointing to see that your beloved femmes abandoned you like that.”

Shuddering from the scorching heat suddenly emitting from his large chassis, she turned her helm away from his inching faceplates. “I ordered them away,” she grit out through clenched denta, unsure as to whether she was lying or telling the truth. “Just because I command them doesn’t mean that they can’t manage in my absence. I wouldn’t have trained them well if that weren’t the case.”

He chuckled, gratified at how defiant she acted, even in his presence. Oh how fun it would be to break her. “Only time will tell if your confidence is held in the right place,” he rumbled into her audial before taking a step back.

Her frame jolted forward and she yelped as her wrists took in all her body weight and pain shot down her arms.

“I will leave you in the watchful care of my top interrogator, until you can provide all of the information we need.” Motioning a figure from the doorway, he turned back, a cocky grin spreading across his faceplates as the stocky cyclops walked forth, emotion absent from his demeanor. 

“Shockwave, I entrust that you will make Elita’s stay comfortable, so long as she cooperates?”

Placing his cannon at level with his protruding chassis as to swear in an oath, he droned, “Yes, my Liege. Unless she refuses to tell me all of Optimus Prime’s plans, I will see to it that not a plate on her frame is so much as dented.”

Elita One watched as the purple scientist walked forward, yellow optic blazing as he looked upon her with an unwavering, unblinking stare.

“I’m afraid that I must bid farewell, Commander,” he said, coming in and caressing a cheek with mocking affection. “Fear not, I will be sure to check on you regularly, my dear.” Slapping her faceplate teasingly, he walked out of the chamber, leaving her with silent mech.

Unsubspacing an Energon prod with a wave of his servo, he approached her, laying that servo against her slender neck cables.

“You and I both know you aren’t one to talk so easily,” Shockwave growled, wrapping blunt digits over them and squeezing firmly, compressing her vocalizer as well. “So to simplify this for you, female Autobot, I would start with locations and names.”

He threw her from him full force and pulled forth the prod, stabbing the suspended femme with it as soon as she swung back into place.

//

It had been nearly an orn since she had last seen his faceplates. Having assumed from the way he spoke to her as though he would be a frequent visitor, she expected that he would be back within the next cycle, a threat in his strut and that grin on his mouth. However, as time went by, it seemed more like he had forgotten about her presence.

So far, the only one she had seen in her time under interrogation was the interrogator himself. He was, as anticipated, not the talkative type, a rather sharp contrast from his leader.

But that pit spawned slagger sure knew how to make her body crawl with disgust and suffering.

How could a logical processor as his hold such twisted ways of that had her crying out in desperation and slumping in humiliation? Such astonishing tactics made to force her to reveal plans and secrets only her sparkmate could’ve known.

After all, this was all under his jurisdiction as a Prime. There was no possible way for him to have communicated it to her, as all outside frequencies weren’t allowed in the femmes’ base for fear of being discovered too early by the enemy.

The only plan that he had ever given them was to gather enough Energon resources to blow the Decepticon base on Cybertron sky high. This was still a work in progress, as the only source of Energon that was worth spending any time and resources on was at their docks twice an orn. FDB couldn’t easily go about mining for it, as there were no geoferrological experts, nor mining frames, in service to speak of.

Now, she remained, with only a plan not in any way related to the mad scientist’s queries and the secret to keep, lest their past few decavorns of work and waiting be in vain.

It was all taking a toll though.

She had used a technique that she herself taught to her group of femmes such a long time ago. It was essentially a form of deep processor dissociation that allowed one to fully experience their best moments while horrors surrounded them outside.

So, as Shockwave used his prod over the most sensitive place on her frame and pulled out all sorts of tools made to abuse her body into total submission, she relived a battle alongside Chromia, Moonracer, and Firestar, fighting back Decepticon forces valiantly while Optimus and the others boarded the Ark.

These moments she relived over and over, presenting them as a way to motivate herself further, to see her femmes whom she was sure were still alive give their all against the enemy.

And Optimus Prime.

She knew that she shouldn’t have held him to such high standards. The likelihood that he would ever get a transmission from FDB was next to none and, while he was bonded to her, they were nearly half a galaxy apart, such a large distance that not even their spark frequencies had a chance of reaching out to each other.

Still that hadn’t stopped putrid bitterness from growing in her own spark. She tried to suppress it behind the memory, seeing his face each time before takeoff.

But what she hadn’t accounted was that she had secretly begged him passage, pleading that she come with him.

Every time.

Every single damned time.

Nothing was ever modified in any of the replays. She couldn’t change the original outcome of the memory. And it was something that couldn’t get cut out, lest she be hurled back into reality, gasping as electricity coursed through her frame.

It was, in a sense, the torture she couldn’t escape, knowing that he had left her. And though it was something petty, a thing of the past, it still came back to haunt each and every time.

Until, on a day like all the others, she finally snapped.

She laughed, a loud, chaotic chortle, interrupting Shockwave from bringing forth the prod.

And she couldn’t bring herself to stop. She laughed at her misfortune, at her self-pity, at her false hope. How could she be so stupid to think that she would see another day with him, that they were all alive? There was no escape in her past, no chance of escape in her future. All that was left was here and now.

She was left alone to suffer. No one would come for her. And she was suffering all because they deemed it necessary.

Slag that. Slag all of that.

“You are broken, Autobot.”

Turning to his glowing optic, she giggled, thinking how pointless it was that he only had one eye to see the mess he had made of her.

“You’re- right,” she screeched at him between individual hics of her vocalizer, likely broken from all her screaming during her dissociation. “I just need a moment- you contradictory piece of slag…”

The prod struck like a viper and she cackled as the crackling sparks flew outward, her body seizing up while cuffs cut deep into her beyond-chaffed wrists.

“Silence, foolish femme,” he droned, pulling the prod from her side. “You are rapidly becoming of no use to us. If you do not give me Optimus’s plans at this instant, I will make the order to terminate you.”

“Idiotic carrier fragger, you know you can’t do that. You would require your precious Liege to give the order to kill off a prisoner of war.”

“With the fact that you have become uncooperative to the point of being a waste of resources, I would say that I can override the initial decision.” Putting up his cannon servo, he aimed it straight at her spark chamber.

Optics dimmed as the dark barrel’s light gradually grew in intensity and, giving into fate, bent her head forward, sore neck cables groaning out feebly.

“Cease this immediately!”

Her optics widened. Could it be…?

A struggle ensued, Shockwave grunting as someone apparently took hold of his servo and threw him down to the ground.

Helm snapping up to look upon her savior, she cried, “OPTIM-!“

Megatron stood before her, brushing his servos together as he glared at the scientist sprawled out on the floor.

She shrunk back once he sent his gaze over to her battered form.

“Elita, has it been so long that you do not remember me?” he walked up, scanning her charred plating and warped protoform. “I am so hurt to hear that.”

She turned her head away from him, hoping that he would continue to mock her while she attempted to come up with a way to escape death at his servos.

“Come now, there’s no need to ignore an old friend like this,” he said, unsubspacing a medical kit and going over to treat her wounds, running a servo across her thigh plate as if to use it to check for damage in that area. Though he could have just as easily used a scanner or brought in a medic…

Suddenly, a revelation struck her. Something she was willing to use to her advantage to come up with a way out. Even if it meant having to shatter the bond with a distant loved one.

She moaned lowly and brought her thigh against his flattened palm to check if her suspicions were correct.

Drawing back his arm, he looked away from her leg and stared straight at her optics, a look of utter shock on his faceplates.

She knew she already looked pitiful, Energon staining her faceplates and making her looked on the brink of death. So it only took a slight gaping of her lip components, a quick draw of breath, and a needy gaze to have him sure of what she meant.

He was still reluctant, bringing in servos to the plating on her scarred midsection. Though all of Shockwave’s prodding had totally sent that area into a state of numbness, she improvised.

Brilliant blue optics dimmed to a steady smolder as she pressed in, even as both of them moved to her chestplates, over her pounding spark chamber, and on the sides of her helm. He stepped closer, bringing his chassis against her helm as he slid one servo on her shoulder plates and another round her back, pushing her toward him into an embrace.

“My Liege-?“

Snapping back and away from her to aim his fusion cannon at Shockwave, he snapped, “Release her!”

“But she’s an Auto-“

Onlining his weapon, he stormed over to the scientist. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Shockwave immediately got up from where he was knocked over, limping noticeably to the femme and unlocking her cuffs. No longer suspended by them, she fell forward, crumbling uselessly as her optics slowly blinked away from the ache in her legs. She hadn’t stood since that time and she knew that her joints would be too weak to support her.

But then he came in, bringing large arms around her and carrying her up to his warm chestplates. Barely clinging to consciousness as is, she offlined her optics, slipping into a peaceful slumber, the first of which she, at long last, had her arms freed.

//

Her dreams were finally beautiful.

He was there by her side, remaining steadfast and holding her servo with his as they walked in the pristine streets of Iacon together. Though empty, she knew it was full of life, as sounds of cheerful chatter echoed around them.

In the middle of the road, he stopped and turned to look at her. Bright red and blue armor plates glistened and a joyous gaze stared down from above a drawn in battle mask.

“You- saved me,” she choked out, fully accepting the world around her despite knowing full well that Iacon had been completely shattered early in the war.

He didn’t say a word, only leaning in toward her faceplates, sliding aside the mask as he pressed hidden lips against hers.

//

She was swept out of the bright fantasyland and into utter darkness.

Recalling her previous imprisonment, she backed away like a cornered turbofox, bumping into a pile of soft cushions and spilling soft, silken covers at her knee. Optics slowly adjusting to the very low lighting, she noticed that she was in someone’s habsuite, rather spacious by the looks of it. Gripping at the covers pooled around her body, she pulled them over, shivering in anticipation.

Were her sparkmate’s quarters like this? She wouldn’t know, personally. He had commanded that she and her team stay on Cybertron the whole time until after their mission was completed. She only imagined that, as a Prime, he lived in a large area fit for one. 

So it would make sense that her dreams had come true! But where was he.

“Optimus!” she called out, spark racing as she expected him out there, waiting for her to finally awaken so that they can finally be together on Earth.

“OPTIMUS!”

The doors slid open, bright light flooding in as a broad-chassised figure stepped in.

“Lights, 70% intensity.”

Her hope were immediately shot down once she heard that voice and died once she looked upon Megatron standing by the doorway, an astonished look on his face.

Memories of the previous encounter rushed into her processor and she slumped back, defeated upon knowing that her resignation was true. He wouldn’t be coming back for her.

And now she was in the enemy’s berth, lying there helplessly as she pressed covers tightly to her frame out of desperation. Coolant sprung forth from her optics and, before she could even attempt to control herself, she was sobbing, chest heaving as the sparkbroken femme was unable to contain the wave of emotions coming out.

“Elita…”

Megatron made his way carefully over to where she sat, rivets of tears running freely across her face.

“Please, Elita, I had thought that allowing Shockwave to further continue his methods would bring about progress,” he murmured as he took her into his chest.  
She ignored him, only yearning for the touch of her true lover, one whom she was convinced now that she would never see again.

She was so lost among the outpouring. Murderous thoughts filled her, urging her to strike against the mech besides her. It was his fault, for having her stuck on Cybertron in order to fulfill her objective. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t be dealing with the symptoms of separation she kept contained since he left.

Since he left…

A malicious train of thought started up, this time heading toward the original plan that she had while Megatron had come into Shockwave’s torture session. Her sharp processor picked up on a few details she hadn’t noted until now. Since he hadn’t personally checked on her, he shouldn’t have known that she was at Shockwave’s mercy, but thinking back to how rapidly he had responded, it was too coincidental that he had.

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?”

This interrupted him in mid-sentence. “I- well, I-“

“This entire time that Shockwave’s been poking at me like a feral turbofox, you’ve been sitting back and seeing it go down on surveillance,” she seethed, burning hot fury growing deep within her spark. No doubt he had been enjoying it as well!

“Listen, Elita,” he said, taking hold of her quaking servos in an attempt to appease her. “It was only to ensure that Shockwave did not push you past your limits. Had I known the bastard would try to kill you… I am so sorry…”

She looked away from him, disgusted even more by the fact that he was carrying her in such an affectionate way. How hypocritical of him. If he had really thought to care so much about her, why had he continued with the suffering? Why hadn’t he told Shockwave to stop?

He was almost as sparkless as Optimus.

But he was also at her knees, pouring out emotions that she wouldn’t have believed could come from the warlord. He hadn’t stopped apologizing to her since he started, almost like he was genuinely hurt that she would accuse him as such instead of gloating about how he had seen her writhe in pain.

Her demented processor took hold of this observation, something that she had also noticed when he came to her aid in the torture chamber, and came to a single conclusion.

He was feeling an infatuation for her.

How repulsive. He was such a Decepticreep that he could only think to show his love by continuing to make her scream in pain.

And, yet, here he was, attempting a different method of displaying his admiration.

Absolutely abhorrent.

The likelihood that anyone would reciprocate would be near impossible. But, she saw that he was desperate, gripping her servos like a sparkling latching onto a favorite toy.

This opportunity would only come once in a lifetime. Optics darted around as she tried searching for a weapon to use. Unfortunately, as much of a Decepticon that he was, he didn’t make a show of his prowess by putting weapons up on the wall.

She would need to improvise. Her plan to kill him while totally severing her once sacred bond would not be in vain.

In an attempt to buy time to figure out another way, she spoke in the softest voice she could manage, “I understand, Megatron.”

A look of amazement crossed his faceplates, no doubt that of relief.

So she continued, pulling her servos out of his tight grasp and settling them atop his forearms. “I was a prisoner you had to ensure was in her place.” Lowering optics to seem flustered, she added, “That and you saved me from one of your own…”

“I- yes,” he purred out. “I wasn’t willing to see you go so easily.” Putting an arm around her waist, drawing her in closer, he said, “You are a very resilient femme and had sustained all that damage without breaking down.”

You swine…

She smiled coyly, his spark chamber pressing against her neck cables. “Megatron…”

"Yes?”

She swallowed the bile in her intake while she spread legs apart, kneeling into his plating, then whispered against his chassis, “I can show you how resilient I truly am.”

He pulled her away from, mouth gaping as he was at an absolute loss for words. “But you are bonded to him-“

“And?” She replied, allowing acidic hatred to build up in her mouth. “He has abandoned me on this planet, like nothing more than a common soldier. He never came back after my capture. It is obvious that he does not care for me as such.” Holding back hot coolant tears, she murmured out honestly, “I want to end it.”

He sat back, nodding as he understood exactly what she was asking of him and for what purpose. “I will help you.”

Carrying her smaller body, he slowly laid her back onto the berth, pulling in a cushion to prop her strut onto it. She sighed appreciatively as she leaned back, eyes glowing softly as he positioned himself in between her legs.

Attempting to maintain her calm at the idea of being fragged by the leader of the Decepticons, she slid aside her interface panel, gazing at him intently in anticipation of his next move.

Looking down at her comparatively tiny valve, he got down on his hands and knees next to the base of the berth and moved her legs further apart from each other.

“You might have a difficult time handling me at this point in time. Are you open to stimulation?”

Creasing her optics, revulsion making her spark pound away in its casing, she nodded silently, murderous ideas already starting to form.

Once he saw her confirm, he went ahead, pressing scarred lip plating against the rim of her valve, massaging deeply into her folds. He hummed lowly as he kissed them with a tenderness never witnessed before.

Her vents hitched and she lightly squirmed with an awful blend of arousal and discomfort.

C’mon femme, it’s only a bit of this before you can do the true dirty deed, she reassured herself. It would only be a matter of timing now!

Loosening up to the treatment, she stayed on her backside while his servos reached up to her hips, keeping them still while his glossa slipped in.

“Ahhhh!” She was unprepared for that. Had it truly been so long since she had interfaced?!

She corrected herself, remembering that had been only cycles before he left her behind on Cybertron.

“Has he not pleasured you, Elita?” Megatron came up, a look of concern more than one of mockery.

She whimpered desperately as the large, slimy appendage slid out of her neglected valve. Of course, this was what would happen after one would avoid self-servicing in between missions out of discipline…

“Shameful. He is a waste of bearings if he can’t do that at least.”

He went back in, slowly gorging on her interface fluids while she involuntarily bucked herself into his face. Oh how long had it been.

Processor awash with pleasure, she barely recalled the initial plan. But, as she was quickly nearing an overload, she brought her legs atop of each shoulder, the backs of her knees scraping against his rough plating.

He allowed it, barely aware of her plot, thinking that it was only to allow him access to her furthest nodes. He pinched the soft protoform, digits digging in, but not piercing her flesh.

Glossa pounding in and out of her, she cried out, unable to contain the carnal feeling. This, as well, was meant to distract Megatron from her final step.

She crossed her pedes together behind his neck cables, ready to act as soon as she could.

The door to the habsuite whooshed open, but no one turned to acknowledge it.

She let out a last scream, a battle cry as opposed to an orgasmic one, while her valve spasmed wildly.

Pressing her thighs against the sides of his helm and locking her calves together, she constricted him with enough force to disorient him immediately as servos  
moved to grip her strong legs in an attempt to separate them.

However, she wouldn’t give up and kept squeezing relentlessly until a resounding crack filled the room, signifying an end to her suffering at his hand.

Kicking away his cooling frame, she sat up and brought the pillow she had been leaning on to cover her face. It had been so long, and she had gone so far to have finally put down the enemy.

A bombing would no longer be necessary. She would gladly die at the hands of his soldiers knowing that he was finally dead…

“Elita.”

That voice.

She turned around, looking at the tall newcomer standing in the doorway, jaw hinges gaping once she knew it was true.

But for the first time since he had left, she didn’t want him to see her.


End file.
